PS 635 
M2333 

cp, 1 HE OLD FLAG: 






.-■"' 



OR THE 



Spy of Newbern. 



J MILITART DRAMA 

IN THREE ACTS. 



By G. H. WALKER. 



HARTFORD: 
SOLDIERS' RECORD" PRINT. 

1870. 



c~ 



THE OLD FLAG: 



OR THE 



Spy of Newbern 



3H 



A MILITARY DRAMA 

IN THREE ACTS. 



By G. H. WALKER. 




HARTFORD: 
SOLDIERS' RECORD" PRINT. 

1870. 









.-v^ 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 

Charles Sanford, a Soutliron in the Union army, and a Spy. 

Col. Sharpe, of the Confederate army. 

Capt. Holmes, of the Union army. 

Moses Bailey, one of the Chivalry. 

David Jones, one of the Mudsills. 

Jim, an eccentric "Contraband." 

Sam, an "Intelligent Negro." 

Pat Murphy, an "Adopted Citizen." 

Sergt. Williams, Confederate. 

Alice, who loves Charles Sanford, bnt hates the Union. 

Emma, vs^ho loves Capt. Holmes, but hates Treason. 

Mrs. Bailey, mother of Alice and Emma. 

Officers^ Soldiers^ JVegroes, &c. 

Allegorical — Goddess of Liberty, Angel of Death, Guardians of 

the Flag, Victor Angels, Family Group. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, 

Bx G. H. WALKER, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



TMPS2-00757C 




OR THE 



SPY OF NEWBERN. 



ACT I. 

Scene 1 — Southerii plantation. Jim and negroes dis- 
covered. Song hy Jim, — air " Dixie^ 

If de Yankees come down here on de water, 
Dey'll get killed jes as dey orter — 

Get away ! Get away ! 

Get away from Dixie land ! 
De darkeys leabe de ole plantation, 
And fro up mighty big fortifications — 

Get away, &c. 
Den dey'll wish dey want in Dixie — 

Away, away ! 
In Dixie land dey'll neber stand. 
For dey'll all get killed in Dixie — 

Away, away ! 

Away down souf in Dixie ! 

Ise hearn how dey burns up all creation. 
And dat's what dey call de confiscation — 

Get awaj, &c. 
I golly, if dey comes down here to Newbern, 
I reckon how dey wont find many niggers to burn — 

Get away, &c. 
Den dey'll wish dey want in Dixie, &c. 



THE OLD FLAG. 



Jim. Glar out, dar, niggers — clar out, dar, I tells 
yer ! Yere comes massa. Suffin oncommori must hab 
tuk place, or he'd neber be so arly in de mornin. 
{Exeunt negroes.) Yah, yah, yah ! haint dem niggers 
scared ? Keckon dey tinks massa be cross cos he's 
lip so arly in de mornin. Dis nigger aint feared of 
him. {Sings and dances.) 

(Enter Moses Bailey, r.) 

Bailey. Come, come, you good -for nothing nigger, 
dry up that infernal howling. I have something to 
tell you that will make you sing a different song. 
Those murdering Yankees I have told you so much 
about, have taken Koanoke Island, and — 

Jim. {Frightened.) Oh, gorra mighty, massa ! don't 
tink dey comes dis way, does yer? 

Bailey. That is just exactly what I do think. 

Jim. Oh, murder, massa ! I-I-Ise a dead nigger, 
sart'in shuah ! What does yer tink dey'll do wid dis 
chile's remains arter dey've riddled his carcass wid bul- 
lets ? 

Bailey. Oh, Jim, they won't shoot you. You need 
not expect anything so merciful from them. What do 
you think they did with the negroes at Koanoke Island? 

Jim. Dun'no, massa. I'se hearn how dey butchered 
dem like pigs down to ■ Bof ut. Golly ! I tink dat be 
bad 'nuflf. P'raps dey crucified 'em up dar. 

Bailey. They w^ere roasted alive — burned to a crisp, 
every mother's son of them. 

Jim. Does yer tink dey'll do dat yere, massa ? 

Bailey. Yes, that's what Burnside does with all the 
niggers he takes. 

Jim. Burnside ! Am dat de name of de Yankee 
gineral ? 

Bailey. Yes. 
. Jim. Den ob course ef his name am Burnside he'll 



THE OLD FLAG. 5 

hum all de niggers he gets on his side. Tink he come 
yere, shuah, massa ? 

Bailey. He will if we can't fight him back. 

Jim. Gorra mighty, massa! jes' gub dis nigger a 
gun, if yer want to see some fightin'. Dis chile hain't 
'feared nuffin'. 

Bailey. No Jim, I don't want you to fight — niggers 
can't fight ; but there's plenty of work clown at the 
brick-yard, that none but niggers ought to do. Every 
one we can muster is to be sent down the railroad to 
the brick-yard, to work on the entrenchments. We are 
making a trap for those cunning Yankees, and if you 
work smart and get it done before they come, Burnside 
instead of leading his men to victory, as he did at Roa- 
noke Island, will lead them into the jaws of death. So 
come, get your spade and pickaxe, and be off with the 
rest of the gang. And mind, now, work ! Remember 
that you are working for your life. 

Jim. Dis Darkey '11 show his cullud bredren how to 
handle dem noble weapons, de spade and pick axe, sar- 
tain shuah^ — dat's a fac'. [Exit L. 

Bailey. Ha, ha, ha ! Ignorant race of humanity ! 
Little assistance will the Abolitionists get from them. 

(Enter Emma, l.) 
Good morning, Emma ; you are walking early, are you 
not? 

Emma. Not early for me, father ; you know I am up 
with the sun. But something unusual musthave called 
you up, for you know you are partial to long naps in the 
morning. 

Bailey. Yes, startling news reached us last night. 
Burnside has taken Roanoke Island, with nearly all the 
troops that garrisoned the place. It is rumored that 
this place will be his next point of attack. And per- 
haps, Emma, you will have an opportunity of seeing 
1* 



THE OLIJ FLAG. 



some of those noble sons of the North who so excited 
your admiration during your stay among the mudsills 
and greasy mechanics. 

Emma. Father, why do you speak with such disdain 
of those people ? You know they are intelligent, brave, 
enterprising and refined. 

Bailey. Enterprising ! Yes, too enterprising, for 
they have undertaken an enterprise now that I trust 
will prove their ruin. Intelligent! refined I brave! 
Humph ! the cowardly, nigger-stealing- Yankees — they 
showed their valor at Bull Eun, did'nt they ? Ha- ha- 
ha ! Yankees were not made with long legs for nothing. 
'Tis true that, with an overwhelming force, they took 
the little garrison at Roanoke Island, but they'll find 
Newborn too hot for them. They'll meet with men who 
will fight till they die for Southern rights. Southern 
homes, and Southern independence. [Emma is about to 
sjoeak']. No, not a word ! when that light flashes in 
your eye, I know you are about to eulogize the " Old 
Flag"; and I am disgusted with both the eulogy and 
the flag. Have we not a new flag — a new watchword — 
a new battle-cry — a new- declaration of independence? 
What care we for the musty relics of the past ? Our 
hopes center in the future — there we are to look for lib- 
erty and glory, to be won beneath a banner bright and 
new. [Exit^ R. 

Emma. Yes, I was about to speak of the good "Old 
Flag." But no, he cannot listen to words that he feels 
are true, yet must oppose, while they sink into his 
soul with withering conviction. Well, if I ought not 
to grieve his heart, I will gratify my own by singing 
the good old song. [Sings ^^Star Spangled Bannery 

(Enter, Col. Sharpe). 

Sharjoe. Sweetly sung, my gay warbler; but me- 
thinks the " Bonny Blue Flag " would be more appro- 



THE OLD FLAG. 



priate for these perilous times — more becoming to a 
Southern lady — a daughter of one of the leaders in the 
great cause. But never mind that ; I know your whims 
and caprices. I have something of importance to tell 
you. We are expecting a visit from the Northern 
army, and, though in all probability they will "never 
be able to take this strongly fortified place, it is best in- 
all cases to be prepared for any emergency. If by any 
mistake or treachery, the Yankees chance to be suc- 
cessful in entering this place, no deed will be too bad for 
them to perpetrate, and all will be exposed to the bru- 
tal savages. I have relatives in Goldsboro', who have 
often desired an acquaintance with your family. Your 
father is anxious you should go, in order to avoid the 
danger, and I hope your eccentric notions will not in- 
duce you to remain behind. 

JEinma, {coolly). I will think of it; good day. Sir. I 
must hurry home, now. I have extended my walk too 
far already. [JiJxit, E. 

Sharpe. Ah, well I know that she does not approve 
of my plan. She is too desirous to fall into the hands 
of the enemy, hoping thus to- meet that lover of hers, a 
greasy niechanic, I suppose. Well she will find that 
war sometimes shapes strange destinies, — can make do- 
mestic as well as political revolutions. [Exit^ L. * 

Scene IT. Parlor in Bailey s house. Mrs. Bailey and 

A lice discovered seated. 

Mrs. B.^ (r). Oh dear ! how terribly this news has 
agitated me. I hardly think I shall be able to sur- 
vive it, my nerves have been so dreadfully shocked. 

Who would have thought that those Yankee barba- 
rians would have come way down here. Oh, mercy ! 
what will become of us 1 

Alice^ (l). They will never enter this place, mother. 



THE OLD FLAG. 



Think you that our noble defenders, who have sworn 
to shed their last drop of blood in defense of their homes 
and families, cannot keep back these cowardly Yan- 
kees. Aye, they will fight till the last man lies bleed- 
ing, if need be ; and should it come to that, my blood, 
with that of every true daughter of the South, is ready 
for the sacrifice. 

Mrs. B. The Lord knows I don't want to sacrifice 
my blood, and I don't feel at present as though I had 
much to sacrifice. It is very easy for men to stand up 
under bright banners, and swear big oaths about blood,' 
firesides and Southern rights ; but when those Yankee 
gunboats send their bursting shells among them, they 
get terribly frightened and are so liable to run. Now 
Alice, 5^oa know they can run, and if they should, of 
course the Yankees would run after them ; and then 
what would prevent them from coming right in here 
and murdering us all ? Oh dear I shall die, I know I 
shall ! 

Alice. Mother, pray do not talk so foolishly. I tell 
you the Northern troops can never capture this place ; 
their gunboats will be blown to atoms if they attem.pt 
to pass our forts on the river ; and the works that are 
being thrown up at the brick-yard are completely im- 
pregnable. 

Mrs. B. Well I don't know but what it is so, but 
those Yankees are such horrible creatures, the very 
mention of the name almost sends me into hysterics. 
Oh, the inhuman wretches ! what do they want to come 
way down here for, and murder us all ? If they must 
kill and rob, why can't they go to some foreign country? 
I don't see how Emma could have staid with them so 
long as she did. And there is Charles Sanford, your 
affianced husband. I presume he is in some Northern 
prison. If he had only come back before the war com- 



THE OLD FLAG. 9 

menced, he would have been safe. But then it would 
have been just like him to have gone into the army, 
and that would have been just as bad. 

Alice. Oh, yes, had he been here, I am sure he would 
have been one of the first to strike for our glorious 
cause. Oh, how proud I should be of him. Of course 
he would be high in office, for his merits and ability 
were known and appreciated here. But he is not with 
us ; and there is one noble soul — one brave heart — 
one strong arm less, to strike for liberty ! Therefore 
I must be so much the more devoted to my country — 
so much the more generous in my sacrifices. 

[Enter, Moses Bailey and Col. Sharpe, e]. 

Sharpe^ (l.c.) Good morning, ladies — rather excit- 
ing news, last night. You seem to be somewhat agita- 
ted, Mrs. Bailey. 

Mrs. B.^ (r.) Oh dear, yes ! I have heard so much 
about those terrible Yankees, that the very thought of 
them makes my blood run cold. Why, Mr. Bailey, 
you are not going to have us ladies remain if there is 
going to be a battle ? You know how horribly the 
sound of firearms affects my nerves. I feel as if I 
could never sleep again in this town during the war. 
Can't you send us up to Goldsboro'? 

Bailey^ (r.c.) It is my intention to do so, and the 
sooner 3^ou go the better. Col. Sharpe has made ar- 
rangements with his relatives at Goldsboro', and you 
will have a pleasant visit. 

Mrs. B. Oh, I am so glad ! I wish you were going, 
too ; but you have got such big ideas and notions in 
your head about Southern rights and independence, 
that I suppose you are bound to stay and get killed 
But Alice and — 

Alice^ (l.) No, I will remain behind. There will 
be work enough for every hand, however feeble, if the 
heart that prompts be true and strong ! 



10 THE OLD FLAG. 

Bailey. (Aside) Noble, girl ! How full my pride, 
how complete mj happiness would be if Emma were 
like her! Why does she manifest such a rebellious 
spirit? A passion for that Northern scapegrace, turns 
her head. 

MUSIC. 

[Enter Emma., dressed in costume of Goddess of Lib- 
erty ., luiih an American flag in her hand. All give ex- 
clamations of astonishment^. 

Emma. {Crossing g.) Why this surprise? You have 
not forgotten this costume? and I trust you have not 
forgotten the poem I recited at the exhibition in this 
attire, with this same banner in my hand. Those in- 
spiring words of lofty patriotism are as tj'ue now as 
they were then. I will repeat them, and see if they 
again call forth j^our enthusiastic applause : 

"When Freedom from her mouutaiu-hight 
Unfurled her standard to the air, 
She tore the azure robe of Night 
And set the stars of glory there. 
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes 
The milky baldric of the skies, 
And striped its pure celestial white, 
With streakings of the morning light ; 
Then from his mansion in the sun 
She called her eagle-bearer down, 
And gave into his mighty hand 
The symbol of her chosen land, 
■x- * * * * 

Flag of the free heart's hope and home ! 
By angel-hands to Valor given — 
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, 
And all thy hues were born in heaven. 
Forever float that standard sheet ! 
Where breathes the foe but falls before us, 
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, 
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us." 

(H.) EMMA. (L.) 

BAILEY. SHARPE. 

MRS. B. ALICE. 



THE OLD FLAG. 11 

Scene 3. — Wood. Enter Rebel Sentinel (r.) and paces 
the stage. Relief enters (li.) and the sentinel is relieved 
hy Pat Murphy. Exit Relief {l.) 
Pat. So me beat is from the river to the big black 
stump yonder. And am I to kape tramping it all the 
blessed time through these bloody woods and bushes ? 
not if my name's Pat Murphy, and I think it is. 
Faith I think the first thing 1 do is to get relieved. 
Corporal the guard number — What the divil is my 
number I dunno ! Faith I'll ask that long haired chap, 
down by the brook. I say, Boregard, or what iver yer 
name is, wud ye mind telling me the nnmber of yer 
•beat ; sure I forgot mine entirely. " Sixteen"! — Then 
mine must be seventeen. Corporal the guard No. 17. 
Sure I'm bound to take this' thing aisj. And why ? 
Ah : bad luck to me did'nt thim hathen seceshers en- 
list me against me own will. And hav'nt I a brother 
by the name of Tim, fighting beneath the Stars and 
Stripes, the flag of me adopted country. Who knows 
but that he's with Burnside and at Roanoke Island 
this blessed minut. Faith if I thought he was, its to 
that same place that I'd be going mighty quick. 
Corporal the. guard No. 17, double quick. What 
the divil was I put here for any way ? Let me see, 
me orders were not to allow any nagers to go sky-lark- 
ing from their work by the brick-yard, and to arrest 
all suspicious looking men of aither sex, going to or 
from the city. Faith I think they're on the lookout 
for spies. {Looks around.) I expect to see them crape- 
ing upon me in all sorts of disguises {Looks {R.) and 
listens) whist ? I thon.ght I heard something in the 
bushes. Halt ! who goes there ? Be aisy now and halt 
or I'll fire. Do ye mind now and halt, or I'll blow ye in- 
to sassage mate. Halt one ! Halt two ! Halt three. 
{Fires and a pig squeals). Ah, bad luck to ye Pat Mur- 



13 THE OLD FLAG. 

pby, yeVe been and shot a poor little innocent pig. 
Why the divil don't that Corporal come I dunno ? 
I have it now, its Corporal Smith, and he knows me 
little game. Sure I'll be aiven with him. Faith its a 
little slapeing and resting that I nade, and all the 
spies and nagers may go to the divil. (Looks M.) By 
me soul, if there is'nt one of thim black scallawags 
sneaking away from his work. Sure its Jim, and its 
tired that he is entirely ; I suppose its me duty to halt 
him and send him back but I hav'nt the heart to do it. 
A queer chap is that same Jim, I think 111 have some 
fun now to hide and watch him. {Looks off L.) Holy 
Moses ! will ye tell me what is that I dunno? Faith- 
its a boat, and there's a white man and a nager 
in it. I wondgr if that isn't what they'd be after call- 
ing suspicious. What the divil do, I care if it is. 
{Exit^ L.) 

{Enter Jim R. luith spade^ and throws himself upon the 
ground.) 

Jim. Dis nigger's tired, sartin shuah, dats a fac. I 
tinks dis war bisness don't suit my constitution, 'spec- 
ially de part they 'sign to de cullud pop'lation of dis 
yer Southern 'Fedracy. If dis chile could tote a gun, 
and hab de fun of shoot'n dem Yankees when dey 
comes yere. But no, dey say nigger good for nufl&n 
but handle de spade and pick-axe, and so dey leave 
all de darkies widout any weapons to defend dere fire- 
side against Burnside. Gorra mighty ! dem niggers 
up at Roanoke Island must a'squirmed awfully when 
dey's roasted. Dar's Sam, so wise and fine-spoken. 
Beckon he used some perfane swearing when he felt 
de fire running frough dat wool ob his'n. Golly ! If 
dey ever get dis nigger dey's got to do some mighty 
tall running. Howsumeber, I must go back and 'sume 
my labors for de cause of Southern rights ; but more 



THE OLD FLAG. 13 

p'ticklar to save dis chile's carcase from being roasted 
like a possum. \Loolzing off L.] Wli-wli-wlio de 
debble am dat ? 

(Enter Sam, l.) 
Gorra mighty ! how you scart dis nigger. 

Sam. Hush ! are vou for from the rest of the srana: ? 

Jim. Yes, so far I'se fear'd I shan't get back time 
'nufP to save me a flogging. How de debble did you 
come yere ? I fo't dey burns ebery bressed one o' 3^ou 
niggers. 

Sam. What made you think so ? 

Jim. 'Case massa tol' me so? 

Sam. Aye, there's where they have been lying to 
you. Such stuff was preached to us, and some believed 
it until we fell into their hands, and then we found 
that their object was not to kill nor enslave, but to 
liberate us. 

Jim. Den wot you down yere for ? AYot made yer 
leave em for if they's such good folks ? Reckon your 
lib'ty wont do you much good yere ; fust ye know 
you'll be diging ditches with spade and pick-axe. 

Scim. I don't intend they shall see me here. Lis- 
ten, and I will tell you my object in leaving the Island ; 
that is, if you will promise to be faithful and give me 
all the assistance you can. 

Jim. Fa'ful ? course I'll be fa'ful. You know, Sam, 
I always stuck to you like a brudder. 

Bam.. I know it Jim and for that reason I have 
dared to trust you. 'Tis a hazardous undertaking, and 
will require the utmost caution. 

Jim. How's I to be fa'ful ? What's I to be cautious 
'bout ? Why de debble don't ye come to de pint, and 
tell dis chile wot's up, and wot yer wants him to do ? 

Sam.. Whom do you think I should meet among the 
Northern soldiers but Charles Sanford, my old mas- 
2 



14 ' THE OLD FLA.G. 

ter's son. He is a lieutenant in the Union army, and 
has come down from the Island to this place as a spy ; 
and you know that if he is caught he will be hung. 
So you see the necessity of keeping this a profound 
secret, and of aiding Charles in obtaining an interview 
with some of his friends in the city. Remain here a 
few moments, — this seems to be a safe place, — while 
I go for Charles ; he is not far off \_JSxit, r. 

Jim. Gorra mighty ! is'nt dat quare, now ? How 
white folks will lie. Reckon I won't help throw up 
any more breastworks if de Yankees are gwine to 
make us free. 

(Enter Charles and Sam, l.) 

Jim. Oh, Massa Charles I I'se right glad to see 3^er. 
{They shake hands.) 

Charles. Well, Jim, I am glad to see you. But I 
have no time for compliments or ceremony. I wish 
to make a few inquiries in regard to the people of ISTew- 
bern. How are your master's folks ? 
• Jim. All smart, massa, 'specially Alice. Since de 
war broke out she's more beautifuller dan eber. She 
holds up her head so proud, an' her eyes flash so bright- 
like, 'specially when she speaks ob Southern rights an' 
firesides, sacrificing blood, an' all dat sort. 

Charles. Just as I feared and expected. She has a 
noble, self-sacrificing nature, and her zeal is worthy of 
a better cause. 

Jim. Dat'sjust what she says 'bout Emma, who 
acts just like Alice, only she don't talk 'bout rights an' ft | 
firesides, but mostly 'bout de Old Flag an' de Union. 

Charles. I am delighted to hear that. How grati- 
fying this will be to my brave captain ; for he hardly | 
expected to find his Southern sweetheart true to loyal- j 
ty. This is greatly owing to her visit to the North. 
She has learned something of the Northern people. 



THE OLD FLAG. 15 

I would that Alice were less prejudiced; if her head 
would toss with pride, and her eyes kindle with rev- 
erence, when she spoke of the Old Elag and the Union, 
how it would gladden my heart ! — how it would en- 
hance her beauty ! how it would strengthen my love ! 
But no : her mind is estranged by a misguided, yet 
pure and unselfish zeal, for the basest cause a people 
ever took up arms to maintain. But she will some day 
see the error of her way ; and when the stars aind stripes 
once more float over Kewbern and the whole South- 
ern laud, she will again revere the glorious emblem of 
liberty and freedom. 

Jim. Dem's big words, massa, sartin shuah, dat's a 
fac, — ^and you speaks 'em like a preacher. But I'se 
'feared dey'll miss dis chile at de brick-yard, so I must 
be gwine. 

Charles. Stop a moment. Can you carry a note 
safely to Emma? 

Ji7n. Yes, dat I can. But you don't mean Miss 
Emma, — you mean Miss Alice, don't y er ? 

Charles. No, Emma. Now remember, and use the 
utmost caution. 

[Exit Jim, r.] 
And now Sam., let us reconnoitre and find the safest 
way for entering the city. We are so familiar with the 
place I do not anticipate much danger. It is fortu- 
nate for us that there is at least one loyal heart in 
Newbern. \_Exeunt, R. 

(Enter Pat Murphy, l.) 

Pat. By the Holy St. Patrick I belave its tragedy 
that Pve just seen and heard. Eaith, I think it's me- 
self that must have a fing'er in this pie. Sure, it's a 
dale of help, that I can be after giving that blessed boy 
Charley with me sacret games. Don't I know many a 
broth of an Irish boy, down here in the army. And 
don't I know where every one of their hearts lay. 



16 THE OLD FLAG. 

Hav'nt I seen water in tlieir eyes when they spoke 
of the Old FLag that's been lost sight of this many a 
day? And there's old Daddy Piper, a Soatherner by 
birth, but Union to the back bone. Faith it's right 
straight to his shanty down here in the woods that I'll 
be after going the first thing. He'll secrate me so I'll 
be safe ; and together we'll lay our plans against harm 
comes to thim chaps on the way to Newbern. Ah, 
Charley Sanford, me brave boy! It's a dangerous 
undertaking 3^e'r at now, and ye may yet thank Pat 
Murphy for shirking the duty of sentry. Well, here 
goes for Daddy Piper's, so good hje, Southern Confed- 
eracy. It's Quid Ireland and the American Union, 
one and inseperable, now and forever. {Pig grimts.) 
Amen, says the pig. \_Exit^ L.] 

Scene 4. — Room in Bailey s House. Door r. Lam]^ 
and Union flag on the table. 

[Enter, Emma.] 
Emma. It is nearly time for him to come. I trem- 
ble for his safety ; yet I think the plan is without 
danger if Jim proves faithful. {A linock at the door.) 
Come in. 

(Enter, Jim, e.) 
Jira. {Cautiously.) E bery ting all right ? 
Emma. Yes ; all the people are away from home 
except Alice, and I do not think there will be any dan- 
ger from her. 

{Exit^ Jim, r.) 
How strange it seems that Charles shou.ld return upon 
so dangerous a mission. I wonder how Alice will re- 
ceive him when she learns that he is in the Union army. 
AY ere not her love for him so great, I should fear she 
might betray him. 

(Enter, Charles, R.) 



THE OLD FLAG. 17 

Charles, Emma 1 

Emma. Charles ! Welcome back to Newbern. 
Would that I could welcome you beneath the stars and 
stripes. But nearly a year has now elapsed since the 
Old Flag floated over Newbern ; but I still keep the 
beautiful symbol in my possession to gladden my 
sight. [Tahes flag from table.'] I was wrong. I can 
welcome you beneath the stars and stripes. [ Waves 
flag and replaces it on table.'] 

CI carles. Ere another month, I trust that flag will 
float upon the free, open air of Newbern. 

Ermna. Excuse my abruptness. But can jou tell 
me anything about George Holmes. 

Charles. He is fighting for the Union. 

Emma. Ah, well I knew he would be. But where 
is he ? 

Charles. He is my own captain, and will soon, I 
hope, be in Newbern. 

Emma. Oh, how delighted I shall be to see him ! 
But I suppose he has forgotten me. Does he ever 
speak of me ? 

Charles. He does, indeed ; he speaks of little else. 
{Alice^ ivithout^ singing the " Bonny Blue ElagJ^) Is 
that Alice ? 

Emma. Yes, and she is coming this way. Ho you 
wish to have her see you now? but she is here. [Mu- 
sic. Enter Alice with small secession flag.] 

Charles. Alice ! 

Alice. What— Charles ! 'Oh, Charles! {They em- 
brace.) 

Charles. Why, Alice, you look more beautiful than 
ever. 

Alice. Oh, Charles ! I am so glad yon have re- 
turned. Now that you are safe at home you will have 
a chance to be avenged upon your Northern oppres- 
2* 



18 THE OLD FLAG. 

sors. This place will now seem ten-fold more secure, 
for I shall feel that I have an arm to defend me, — one 
on which I can relj, — one that I know will strike 
valiant blows for Southern liberty. Look at our ban- 
ner ! Is it not beautiful ? .Do you not long to be fight- 
ing beneath its folds? Why do you shrink from it? 
Of course you will fight. 

Charles. Yes : but not under that flag ! 

Alice. What, Charles ! false to your native land ! 
traitor to your country ! Is there treason in your 
heart ? 

Charles. Treason ! The emblem of treason is in 
your hand. I fight beneath the banner that waved 
over the swords of Washington, Jackson and Scott, — 
the emblem of Liberty and Freedom ! 

Alice. Indeed, then you had better join the Fede- 
ral army. 

Charles. I am proud to inform you that I do belong 
to that mighty host of loyal men ! 

Alice. In the Northern service, and here secretly, in 
citizen's dress ! Then you are a spy I 

Charles. And what if I am ? 

Alice. Then you shall meet — as you deserve — the 
fate of a spy ! {Lays flag on table and rings hell.) 

Emma. Surely, Alice, you will not betray him ? 

Alice. It is my duty. The safety of our homes de- 
mands it. {To servant^ who enters.) Go to the hall 
where they are holding the meeting, and tell father to 
come home instantly, with a guard. There is a spy in 
the house, from the Federal army. \_Mxit, servant. 

Emma. Oh, Charles ! fly — fly ! You may escape 
them. 

Alice, {Locks and guards the door.) Not yet, Emma. 

Emma. Alice, how can you ? Grive me that key ! 

Charles, {Aside) What shall I do ? {To Alice). 



THE OLD FLAG. . 1^ 

Oh ! have you no mercy ? I conjure you in the name 
of our mutual love, not to betray me ! Surely you can- 
not have become so heartless as to be the means of my 
detention ? 

Alice. Charles Sanford ! talk not to me of love ! I 
hate you, now ! Betray ! Have you not betrayed us ? 
Are you not here to aid the cruel invader in gaining 
access to our homes, that he may pillage, and lay them 
in ruins ? But you shall die the death of a traitor and 
a spy. 

Charles. Can this be the woman whom I so loved ? 
{Noise of the guard without. Alice unlocks the door.) 

(Enter, Bailey, r. Emma retires to r. of table.) 

Bailey. What do I see ? Charles Sanford 1 What 
does this mean ? Surely he is not the spy ? 

Alice. He is. 

Bailey. Charles, is this so ? 

Charles. It were useless to deny it. I am your 
prisoner. 

Bailey. ISTo, Charles ; though you are an enemy to 
our cause, and would betray us, we will be merciful, 
and spare you. 

Charles. Mr. Bailey, 'tis a noble impulse that 
prompts you to make this offer, with so great peril to 
yourself, while your look of scorn shows how utterly 
you despise me. You may think I have lost all 
honor; but no act of mine shall endanger you or yours. 
To shield those gray hairs that I so much revere, I will 
give my life as freely as I offered it to my country — as 
much yours as mine. Shou.ld I escape now, you will 
be held responsible. Therefore, I repeat, I am j^our 
prisoner. 

Alice. Ah ! the guard has come. I shall see that it 
does its duty. {Enter guards in charge of an officer.) 
There is your prisoner! — he has confessed himself a 



20 . THE OLD FLAG. 

spy ! Charles Saiiford, you know your fate. {Retires 
to L. of table.) 

Charles. My fate ! To die like*a felon. No, ratlier 
let me meet death, in a desperate struggle to escape ! 

Officer, (r) Charles Sanford, jou are suspected as 
a spy. 

Charles, (l.) And you have come to arrest me ? 

Officer. I have. 

Charles. Then, sir, proceed in the discharge of your 
duty. {Aims pistol at officer. Officer and guard shrink 
hack. Picture. Alice comes slowly forward and forces 
down the arm of Charles, luho is seized hy the officer and 
soldier. They struggle, and Charles is throiun on his knee, 
and the officer and soldier each p)l<^ce a p)istol close to the 
head of Charles. Alice (l.) regards Charles with scorn 
and triumph. Emma (r.) takes an attitude of entreaty. 
Bailey, behind Charles, extends his hand to the guard and 
officer. Tableau — curtain.) 



ACT II 

Scene 1 — A road through woods. Enter Jim, in charge 
of six negroes, armed with foiuling pieces. 
Jim. Halt ! We's got to wait yere awhile till we 
gets orders from our s'perior officer. {The men form a 
lineup and down the stage E., facing L. JiM stands in 
front of them.) 

Jim. Cullud bredren an' feller-sogers : Did yer know 
dat yer had started on a great an' glorious mission ? 
Did yer know dat yer war gwine to be heroes ? Did 
yer know dat yer war gwine to be martyrs ? Did yer 
know dat yer war gwine to strike a blow for freedom 
and smash into light'ud all yer yokes of bondage? 
Hush ! 'Tis de silent hour ob midnight ; de possom 



THE OLD FLAG. 



sleeps ; de owl forgets to hoot ; dar's mighty big work 
on hand, and eberyting keeps dark ! Dey say niggers 
can't fight ; dat dey get scart and run. Feller-sogers, 
here am a heart dat knows no fear, and while — (Enter 
Sam, l. Strikes Jim on the slioulde7\ Jim yells^ leaps^ 
and runs offn.) 

Sam. He has shown his courage, hasn't he ? Well, 
the rest of you don't seem to be taken that way, and I 
reckon there are enough left for^the work on hand. I 
will tell /you what it is : A party started from the 
Union army to rescue Charles Sanford from prison. 
'Twas impossible for them to pass the picket line with- 
out detection, and they were taken prisoners. I man- 
aged to pass undiscovered, and am no\Y doing all I can 
to rescue them. I expect they will be taken to the city 
to-night, and, if possible, I wish to intercept them as 
they pass through this wood. 

David Jones. ( Without.) Gol darn it, I tell ye, I've 
lost my shoe, and blast me if I go another step further 
till I get a mate for the one on t'other foot. 

Sam. That is David Jones. The guard is bringing 
the prisoner this way. ISTow we will step one side, and 
when I give the word, fire, and then rush to the rescue. 

[Exeunt^ L. 

{Enter the guard^ consisting of a sergeant and four 
men. Two of them are guarding Capt. Holmes, the 
others are dragging David Jones, who has lost his hat and 
shoe, and is hopjmig on one foot) 

David. ' Blast your picters ! Jerus'lem-crickets-gol- 
darned if I go another step further 'till I've made a 
requisition on the quartermaster. How the deuce do 
you think a feller's going to walk all night on one foot ? 
Jerusha knit me that stocking just before I left for the 
war and darn me if I want to wear it out, and won't 
wear it out for you, you dirty-looking sneaks. I would 



* 

22 THE OLD FLAG. 

never have surrendered to such scaly-looking soldiers 
if it hadn't been so dark that I couldn't see yer ; and 
now that the moon has ris, and shown yer dirty car- 
casses, darn me if I stay surrendered. 

{He throws the guard one side and springs for wai^d ; 
the sergeant stojys him with his bayonet.) 

Sergt. Hold on — not so fast ! {The sergeant and 
two soldiers coch their muskets and stand around him). 

David. Well, you've got me surrounded, hain't yer? 
Darn yer picters, if I was only armed I'd lick the whole 
lot on yer. Don't stick them things so close to me. 
Gol-darn-it, they are sharp. 

jSergt. Come along with us, then. 

David. ISTot 'till I've got a mate for this shoe. {Show- 
ing a shoe of tremendous j^attern.) -Tarnation, I'm tired I 
{SinJiS upon the ground.) 

Soldier. Come, sergeant, let's not fool with him any 
longer. You know our orders were to shoot him if he 
caused us any trouble. 

{Jim looks on timidly The sergeant springs^ and 
drags him forth.) 

Sergt. Hallo, what the devil are you. sneaking 
around here for? Who do you belong to? 

Jim. Massa Bailey, sar. Please le' me go. I fo't 
some one else was yere. 

Serft. Thought some one else was here ? And who 
did you think it was ? 

Jim. Dun'no massa. Grolly, le' me go. 

Sergt Not till I have satisfied my suspicion in re- 
gard to you. What have you got that shot-gun for ? 
Give it to me. The gun is loaded. What were you 
doing with this ? 

Jijn. Huntin' possum, massa. I was, massa, now, 
sartin shuah, dat's a fac. 

SergH. Humph ! a likely story. What have you in 
your pockets ? 



THE OLD FLAG. 23 

Jim, Nuffin', massa. I hain't, now, massa, sartin 
sliuah, dat's a fac. 

jSergt. SearcTi liim, Tom. 

{One of the soldiers searches his pockets and finds a let- 
ter luhich he hands to the sergeant^ ivho opens it and reads: 
— I will meet you hetiueen three and four^ in the garden. 
He must he rescued to-night^ for to-morrow he. is to he 
executed.) 

Serft. No address — no signature. {To Jim.) Who 
gave you this ? 

Jim. I'se promised I wouldn't tell, massa. 

Sery't. {Sternly.) Tell me who gave you this, or I 
will blow your brains out ! {Points gun at him.) 

Jim. Oh, murder !" mercy, massa ! Only jes' take 
dat gun away, and I'll tell you all I knows 'bout it. 

David. Consarn yer black picter, can't yer be a man 
if ye are a nigger ? Stick to yer promise if ye are. 
He won't kill ye, 'cas if he does that'll be money out 
of his own pocket. 

Jim. Grolly, dat's so.* If massa shoots dis nigger 
he'll hab to pay eight hun'rd dollar, 'cos Massa Bailey 
am a mighty big man, and he makes folks do 'jes like 
he wants 'em to. 

SergH. Well, never mind, it don't make much dif- 
ference whether we know it or not. Come you dev'lish 
yankee, if you don't want a bullet through your head. 

David. Go ahead, you cold-hearted secesh. You 
don't look as if you had courage enough to shoot a 
man, anyhow. 

SergH. We shall see. 

{Aims at David. Report of firearms heard., and the 
sergeant falls dead. Sam and negroes rush on, right and 
left, and secure the rehel soldiers.) 

Jim. (Who has fallen in a paroxysm of fear) Mur- 
der ! murder ! Dis nigger's dead ! Dis nigger's dead ! 
sartin shuah, dat's a fac. 



24 THE OLD FLAG. 

Sam. Get up, you fool. You're not hurt. 

Jim. GroUj, Sam, is dat you ? Is jqi shuah clis 
chile isu't mortally killed? 

Sam. Of course you are not ; we did not aim at 3^ou. 

Ca2ot. Holmes. Ah, Sam, you are as true as steel. I 
had given up all hope of escape. Ah, that letter this 
fellow brought must have been for you. 

Sam. For me — where is it now ? 

Captain. The sergeant took it. It is in his pocket. 
(Sam searches the pockets of the sergeant^ and finds two 
papers, oneof lohich hehands to Capt. HoL]vrES.) Ah, it is 
Emma's writing, — precious treasure ! {Presses it to his 
lips.) 

Sam. What does she write ? 

Captain. Kead ! {Hands letter to Sam.) 

Sam. Ah, 'tis all right ; she must have some plan 
of rescue. 

Captain. But how can we enter the city ? I fear 
it will be impossible ; but if the rest follow I will make 
the attempt at any cost. 

David. Here's a chap that's wilin' to wear out the 
best stocking Jerusha ever knit, and claw off all his 
toe-nails into the bargain, to help get the lieutenant out 
of this scrape. 

Sam. Here, I have a plan. Here is that sergeant's 
pass that I took from his pocket. {Beads.) ^^The 
guard ivill p)ass SergH Williams and squad^ luith Federal 
prisoners^ to Newhern.^'' I have the rebel countersign. 
We can take the clothes of the soldiers as disguises, 
and enter the city with you as my prisoners. 

Captt. A glorious plan but who will wear the dis- 
guises. 

Sam. Why, Ave. Oh ! I had forgotten — our color 
will betray us. 

Capt. Oh, heavens ! Is there not some way of put- 



THE OLD FLAG. 25 

ting tliis plan into execution? Oh, God! wilt thou 
not send us aid ? 

(Enter Pat. Murphy.) 

Pat If he won't, here's one that will. 

Capt. And who are you ? 

Pat Pat. Murphy, to yonr service, and bosom friend 
of Charley Sanford. It's Daddy Piper and I that have 
been working in secret for ye, and it's to his shanty 
that we must be going mighty quick; and we'll have 
things fixed up for ye in a jiffy. 

David. (To rebel soldiers.) Come along, here, you 
ragamuffins. Want to take your sergeant along, do 
yer ? Wall, I don't care. [Uxeunt. 

Scene 2. — Prison^ with secret door in flat. Charles dis- 
covered^ pale and haggard^ sleeping upon a rude couch. 
Music. 

(Enter Col. Sharpe.) 
Sharpe. {Looking at Charles.) How can one sleep 
so soundly upon the very verge of eternity, — dreaming 
away in seeming peacefalness his last hours on earth? 
Ah, Charles Sanford ! this is a gloomy ending for a 
life that opened with such brightness. What a noble, 
warm-hearted fellow ! How *proud, how impulsive, 
how ambitious ! But I must not waste my time in ex- 
pressions of sympathy. If he will serve me as I wish, 
he can live. {Calling.) Charles Sanford ! 

Charles. {Starting up.) Is it morning? well, I am 
ready. {Sees Sharpe.) Ah, Col. Sharpe I Whatsis your 
pleasure, sir? 

Sharpe. I have come to consult you in regard to 
obtaining for you a reprieve. By taking the proper 
course, I think you can procure one. 
Charles. Well, what am I to do ? 
Sharpe. Declare vour allegiance to the South, and 
3 



26 THE OLD FLAG. 

show your sincerity by revealing to us the secrets of 
the Northern army. 

Charles, CoL Sharpe, have you come here to insult 
me? You should have known better. {Turns aiuay.) 

Sharpe. {Aside.) I did know him better. This is 
only a preliminary step. Now for the real point. {Goes 
iij) to Charles.) Charles Sanford, I respect you for this 
fidelit}^, and deeply sympathize with jow in your pre- 
sent condition. I am willing to incur great risks to 
aid your escape ; but, in return, I would ask a slight 
favor — something th^t will cost you but little time and 
trouble, and will be of great benefit to me. 

Charles. I will do anything in my power that is 
honorable. 

Sharpe. {Aside.) That word " honorable " has an 
ominous sound for me. {To Charles.) You know that 
your comrade, Capt. Holmes, is my rival for the hand 
of Emma Bailey. But you, with one word, could poi- 
son her in his heart forever, and then the field would 
be left open to me. Promise to do this, and I will place 
you inside the lines of the Union army. 

Charles. Did you ever know me to say a single 
word that would reflect upon the fair fame of Yirtue 
and Innocence ? 

SharpQ. You might be telling no more than the 
truth in this case, although, perhaps, I should say it 
with some degree of shame. 

Charles. {Scornfully and excitedly.) I should think 
you would say it with some degree of shame, vile tra- 
ducer! {Rerjarding him ivith contem2:)i.) I remember, 
now ; it was a custom of yours to be continually litter- 
ing base insinuations like this. And, know you, that I 
regard such a man as the most detestable creature on 
earth. 

Sharpe. I hope, Charles, that you will fully con- 



THE OLD FLAG. 27 

sider this matter, before deciding. Oblige me in this, 
and I will aid you and your cause with all the means 
at my command. I will enter your service, and give 
all the information I can. 

Charles. Col. Sharpe, the object of your visit liere 
to-night has most signally failed, but you have been 
wonderfully successful in belittling youself in my 
eyes. 

Sharpe. I expected from you more sympathy than 
this. You know what it is to love a woman- who is 
bitterly opposed to the cause for which you have staked 
your life. 

Charles. How do you know that ? Do you think I 
love Alice Bailey now ? Look ! see what she has done. 
Would it seem strange if I hated her? If I carried 
your black heart in my breast, I fear that I might curse 
her with my dying breath ! 

Sharpe. {Aside.) Now, that's what I call genuine 
hatred. He utterly loathes that woman. I think he is 
prepared to believe almost anything of her that is bad. 
I will try it — it may be gaining a step for me. {To 
Charles.) I do not wonder that you despise that girl. 
She must seem little less than a deliberate murderess, 
to 3^ou. 

Charles. Even worse than that! — and to tliink that 
I once respected her so much. Who would think that 
one could so change, as she has ? 

Sharpe. You may well ask that. Only a few years 
ago she bore an untarnished reputation ; now see what 
she is. How rapidly women fall after the first down- 
ward step. 

Charles. What do you mean ? 

Sharpe. Why ! do you not know ? It would not 
take yoii long on the streets of Newbern to find out 
what Alice Bailey is. 



28 THE OLD FLAG. 

Charles. {Dashing Sharpe to the floor^ and standing 
over him.) Yillain ! how dare you, in my presence^ 
make an accusation so false ! Heap all the bitter epi- 
thets you choose upon her for what she has done to 
me, — for what she has done to our country, — but 
breathe not one word against the womanly virtue of 
Alice Bailey. 

Sharpe. {After Rising.) Why^ — 

Charles. Don't speak to me ; every word you 
utter is tainted with the filth that fills your whole 
mind. Leave ; this cell is gloomy enough without your 
blackening presence. {Exit^ Sharpe^ R.) Oh, what 
emotions has this awakened ! In defending her honor, 
my sympathy has gone out towards her, and the 
struggle in my heart must again be repeated ! {Im- 
pressive.) 

(Enter, Bailey, r.) 

Bailey. I have just seen Col. Sharpe, who says you 
will not accept the proffered terms for your reprieve. 
I did not expect you would. I have not come here to 
urge you further, for I know it would be useless. 
Charles, I hope you do not think I have had the least 
to do in bringing you to this. I have done all for you 
that was possible for one in my situation. 

Charles. Mr. Bailey, I have never entertained one 
hard thought against you. I knew you would do all 
you could to aid me; and believe me, I am truly 
grateful. 

Bailey. I could have done no more for one of my 
own family; and, indeed, my affection for you has 
been little less than that of a jfather. I always looked 
upon 3^ou as a son. I have watched your progress in 
life with the deepest interest. I have noticed, with 
pride, the noble qualities of your heart and mind, and 
have been in deep sympathy with the lofty aspirations 



THE OLD FLAG. 29 

that have inspired your labors. And more recently, 
your unflinching devotion to principle has awakened 
unbounded' admiration. I can well understand your 
love for the Old Flag. You always had an ambition 
for martial renown, and, from a child, possessed a 
strange reverence for the Stars and Stripes. And, 
Charles, though I would not breathe it to another, I 
will say it to you — with all my hatred for the North, 
with all the confidence I have in the righteousness of 
our cause, there is one thing that holds me back from 
a complete consecration to the work, — and that is, the 
memory of the Old Flag ! {Both stand^ visibly affected^ 
while the orchestra plays a short strain of the ^^Star 
/Spangled Banner^) 

Charles. Oh, Mr. Bailey! if you could only -renew 
your allegiance to the Flag and the Union. I see that 
there is a spark of loyalty still slumbering in your 
breast. Oh I cannot the words of a friend, standing 
upon the brink of the grave, a martyr to his country, 
fan that spark to a flame ? 

Bailey. No, Charles, I cannot harbor such thoughts. 
I have never for a moment meditated a step in that di- 
rection. I should never experience these moments of 
wavering but from your example, and the words of 
Emma that are daily sounded in my ears. 

Charles. I presume it is useless for me to implore 
you ; but it would take so much from the pain of death 
to know that you were changed in this. 

Bailey. Well, Charles, I must go ; but it is hard to 
say good-bye. {Takes his hand.) God bless you, 
Charles ; you are going to a better world than this — 
good-bye. 

Charles. {Choked with emotion.) God bless you. 
(Exit, Bailey.) 
I had nerved myself to meet death like a man, but I 



30 THE OLD FLAG. 

was not prepared for words of sympathy and affection, 
and I am breaking down beneath the load. {Throws 
himself upon the conchy and covers Ms face luiili his hands.) 

{Music. Enter Alice. She lays her hand iqoon the 
shoulder of Charles^ after watching him aivhile with emo- 
tion. He starts up.) 

Alice. Why, Charles! you did not start that way 
once when I approached you. 

Charles. Once ! Alice, why have you come to tor- 
ture me? Why are you here? 

Alice. Do you think I could stay away, when you, 
the only man I ever loved, is to die at sunrise ? Hour 
after hour I lay, and could not sleep. .Oh, Charles ! I 
have been living my life over again to-night, and lost 
in my reveries, I was happy again. Yes, happy. We 
wandered again by the river bank ; we floated again 
upon the glassy bosom of the stream, and, drifting 
with the tide, watched the golden sunset. We sat side 
by side, as when you declared your love, and gave me 
a rose at parting ; and when I recalled that, I flew at 
once to find the precious treasure. Withered, indeed, 
but still fragrant {Produces flower, j^re^ses it to her 
lips, and presents it to Charles.) Do you remember 
this? 

Charles. Alice, why do you recall such things ! 

Alice. Can I ever forget them? 

Charles. No, but you need not repeat them to me ; 
it is unnecessary to bring me this misery. What has 
wrought this change in you ? 

Alice. Are you sure the change is all in me ? Can 
you blame me for being faithful to the land that gave 
me birth, — that gave me a home, — that gave me your 
love? 

Charles. Can you blame me for being faithful to 
the flag of our fathers, that always protected that 



THE OLD FLAG. 31 

land, — the only one that can ? Oh, the scenes of my 
childhood ! I have not seen them beneath the light of 
day, since my return, and on the morrow, when I am 
led forth to execution, I shall behold them for the last 
time. ( Wildly.) And j^ou have been the cause of all 
this! Leave me, lest in my mad despair I .spurn 
thee! 

Alice. Charles, be calm. It need not be the last 
time. 

Charles. What do you mean? 

Alice. I possess the means to liberate you. 

Charles. But do you possess the will? 

Alice. Yes ; that is my object in coming here to- 
night. Oh, Charles ! all the energies of my being have 
been bent upon the great cause of Southern independ- 
ence, leaving no room for other thoughts or emotiorts. 
But to-night the fearful reality of your situation, and 
my connection with it, burst suddenly upon my mind. 
My heart relented, and I am here to offer you liberty ; 
but only on one condition, and that is that you will 
fight for the South. Our leading men have expressed 
their wish to pardon you, if you will do this. I have 
been so indignant over your recent conduct, that, 
though earnestly solicited, I have refused to use my 
influence with you to this end. Come, Charles, for the 
sake of the love we bear each other, you will yield to 
my request, and bring happiness to both. What is 
your answer ? 

Charles. I cannot do it. 

Alice. Charles, you see that you hold your life in 
your own hands. 

Charles. I cannot accept the conditions you impose. 

Alice. Then you must die. 

Charles. And you will have done a noble deed [ 

Alice. I will have done my duty. 



33 THE OLD FLAG. 

Charles. ( Taking A lice's hand and speaking with calm- 
ness and resignation.) Then, Alice, my fate is fixed. 
Leave me, for I must prepare for death. 

Alice. Oh, Charles, I cannot give you up. The 
opposing principles to which we each so firmly cling 
are indeed deeply rooted in our hearts, yet love is root- 
ed more deeply. Let us renounce our principles and 
live for each other. We can leave this prison, and 
with the favor of kind Providence, quit this troubled 
land until the war is over. 

Charles. I will never renounce the cause of Freedom 1 

Alice. {Calming herself with great effort and changing 
her manner.) Then I can never relinquish the cause 
of independence. Oh, why did I falter in the course 
I had solemnly sworn to follow ! But now my heart 
is steeled, and no power on earth shall cause me to turn 
from my purpose. 

[Enter Capt. Holmes aiid Emma, through the secret 
door in the flat. Alice sinks into a seat, fainting.'] 

Charles. Capt. Holmes! you here? Why have 
you thus periled your life ? 

Captain. To save a comrade's. 

Charles. Brave, noble Captain ! But how was it 
possible for you to enter the town ? 

Captain. I have not time to tell you now. We met 
with help where we little expected it. There has been 
treachery in the rebel camp to-night, brought about 
through the influence of a true Union man. A small 
fortification near the mouth of the Trent is in our pos- 
session, where a boat is waiting to bear us away. We 
are playing a desperate game, and some in the rebel 
army are taking fearful risks, through their attachment 
to yoa. 

David. {Outside.) Jerus'lem crickets ! why in thun- 
der don't you hurry up in there ? My toes are getting 



THE OLD FLAG. 33 

awful cold, standing on these pesky bricks, with noth- 
in' but stockin's on. Gol-darn-it, don't you know it's 
the month of February ? 

Captain. "We must fly, instantly. Come, Charles, — 
come, Emma. {Tliey are about to leave.) 

Emma. Stay. I must speak with Alice before I 
go. It is necessary that I leave a message with her^ 
if I go with you. 

David. {Entering.) Darnation ! let it go till some 
other time. Don't you see yer can't speak to her now, 
and before she comes to, w^e shall all be gobbled up by 
them tarnal gray backs. I swow to gosh ! this thing 
is gittin' to be kind'a tick'lish. 

Emma. The rest need not wait. I can rejoin you 
at the boat. 

Captain. All may go except myself I will remain 
behind with Emma. Not a word, Charles. There is 
no time to spare. Remember that the gallows is al- 
ready erected for you. Aw^ay ! quick, if you would 
save your life. {Exit^ Charles and David. Emma goes 
to Alice and tries to arouse her.) 

Emma. Alice ! Alice I If she would only awake 
to consciousness, it would require only a moment. 
Alice! {Discharge of firearms heard without.) Ah, it 
is too late to escape ! The guard is aroused ! {Lochs 
secret door.) If you are left in this room there is a chance 
for you to escape. Here is the key to the secret door : 
this is the way to use it. This side of the prison is 
likely to be unguarded, and when you are left alone, 
you can escape. 

[Enter, Col. Sharpe and soldiers."] 

Sharpe. Emma, — you here ! Alice, — fainting ! What 
is this ! Who is this stranger ? 

Emma. Capt. Holmes, of the Union army. 

Sharpe. Ah, your lover and my rival ? Ha ! ha ! 
now he is in my power. Has Charles escaped ? 



34 THE OLD FLAG. 

Emma. He has. 

Sharpe. Well, I do not much regret it. He was 
led astray by the smooth tongues of those Northern fa- 
natics, and now one of them is in our power, and he 
shall feel my vengeance. He shall die upon the gal- 
lows erected for Charles Sanford. Come, Emma, we 
had better leave him to his own pleasant reflections. 
Alice has revived. {All go out except Capt. Holmes. 
Music. — Holmes looks through the grate.) 

Capt. Now is the time to escape, before the guard 
is placed upon this side. {Hxit through secret door.) 

Scene 3. — Room in Bailey s house. Firearms heard on 
the street. Enter Mrs. Bailey, terribly frightened. 
Mrs. Bailey. Oh, dear, mercy on ns ! The Yankees 
have really come at last ; they are right upon us this 
very minute. Where in the world can the girls be ? 
— they are not in their room. Those horrid brutes 
must have come and carried them off. Oh, dear, what 
shall we do? Good heavens! now they are coming 
into this room after me. {Enter Col. Sharpe^ Alice and 
Emma) Oh, brave Colonel, j^ou have rescued my 
daughters from the hands of those infamous Yankees. 
Why Alice, how pale you look ! Well I suppose you 
were dreadfully frightened. Come with me dear girl, 
and I will find something to revive you. The Colonel 
will take care of Emma. [Exit Alice and Mrs. B. 

Sharpe. Well, my little traitoress, your plan of es- 
caping with your lover did not succeed, did it ? I 
must look out for you in future. Come, come, Emma, 
why do you spurn nie thus ? Your father is anxious 
for our union. I have wealth enough to give you po- 
sition. You were wont to look favorably upon my 
suit before your visit to the North, where you acquired 
such romantic ideas, and were completely carried away 



THE OLD FLAG. 35 

by this stranger, who would long ago have forgotten 
you, only that he desired to enter our town through 
your assistance. But why need we talk of him ? He 
will be hung to-morrow as a spy. There will be no 
delay in his case, — no one will interfere in his behalf, — 
there will be no sympathy for him here. 

Emma. He will at least have mine. 

Sharpe. Your sympathy cannot tear down his prison 
walls, nor change his fate ; and I shall take care that 
you do not aid him. I have left him well guarded, — 
no treacherous sentinel is now at the door to pass any 
one to his rescue, 

Emma. (Aside.) He is deceiAxd in regard to the 
way we entered the prison. He knows not of the se- 
cret entrance. There is yet hope of Capt. Holmes's 
escape. 

SJiarpe. Come with me, now ; I dare not trust you 
from my sight, at present. We have a place for women 
of your sentiments. 

Emma. Unhand me sir 1 I am not your prisoner. 

Sharpe, The public safety demands that I should 
make you so. 

[Enter Capt. Holmes, unth pistol] 

Capt. And my safety demands you should not, sir ! 
One word and you are a dead man. Come, Emma, we 
have yet time to escape. 

Emma. But how shall we avoid pursuit ? 

Capt. This man must in some manner be detained 
here ; but how. 

Emma. Here, we can lock him in this closet. 

Capt. {Presenting pistol.) Walk into that closet. 
Silence ! The slightest presure of ray finger will send 
you into eternity. {Sharpe enters the closet and is locked 
in. Capt and Emma go out. Sharpe shouts in the clos- 
et. Mes. Bailey enters, and looks about the room in terror 



36 THE OLD FLAG. 

and dismay. She screams^ drops her candle and runs off. 
jSharpe continues to shout. Enter Mr. and Mrs. Bailey.) 

Mrs. B. Oh, dear 1 dear ! what a terrible night this 
has been. I told you, Mr. Bailej, that the Yankees 
had possession of the town, in overwhelming numbers, 
but you would not believe me; and now here they are, 
right in our very midst, committing their ravages, and 
no one to oppose them. They have just been here and 
carried off Emma and Col. Sharpe, and now they are 
all over the house ; I can hear them shout from, cellar 
to attic. 

Sharpe. Mr. Bailey ! Mr. Bailey ! 

Bailey. Some one is in the closet. It is Col. Sharpe. 
{Goes to the closet door.) How came you in there,?' 

Sharpe. I was locked in by Emma. 

Bailey. {Aside.) Oh, it is merely one of her jokes. 
{To Sha7pe.) Where is she now ? 

Sharpe. She is gone. 

Bailey. Where — with whom ? • 

Sharpe. With Capt. Holmes. 

Bailey. Capt. Holmes? 

Sharp>e. The Federal spy. 

Mrs. B. There, I told you the Yankees had been 
here. Oh, dear, what shall we do ? 

Bailey. I thought he was in prison, and guarded 
beyond all chance of escape. How can you account 
for this. 

Sharpe. I don't know ; there must have been 
treachery. 

Bailey. I will make pursuit at once. 

Sharpe. But first let me out, I am suffocating. 

Bailey. Have you a key, Mrs. Bailey ? 

Mrs. B, Yes, I believe so. {Feels in her pockets.) 
Where in the world can I have put that key ? {Looks 
on table and shelf.) It must be about the house some- 
where. [Exit 



THE OLD FLAG. 37 

Sharpe. Wlij don't jou let me out ? It's terrible 
close in here. 

Bailey. Mj wife is looking for the key. 

Sharpe, Perhaps Emma may have taken it with her. 

Bailey. Quite likely, but I have some keys in my 
pocket. Perhaps one of them may fit. {Feels in his 
pocket) Oh, confound it! they are in my other coat 
pocket. Be patient and I will try and find a key. 
{Goes out and returns luith a large bunch of keys ^ and 
after several trials opens the door and Sliarpe steps out.) 

Sharpe. Somebody shall pay for this. 

Bailey. This then is the work of that Holmes. I 
w^ould be avenged on him for this. 

Sharpe. I will. {Aside.) And on her, too. She 
will find that she has aroused the vengeance of a des- 
perate man. {To Bailey.) Come, let us hasten in pur- 
suit. \_Exeunt, 

Scene 4. — Interior of a small Fort. Eater David 

Jones, r. 

David. I wonder if they call this old miud consarn 
a fort. {Looks downward off stage^ R.) I suppose that 
hole leads down to the magazine. Wonder if I couldn't 
fix some way to bust this old thing up after we leave 
it? {Examines more closely.) Hullo ! what in timena- 
tion is this ? I'll be gol darned if some one hasn't laid 
a train of powder down to the magazine, and pu.t a 
fuse here, all ready to light. That's some of the Capn's 
work. He's got some all-fired big scheme in his head. 
Thunder and lightning ! if there isn't a streak of day- 
light. Where has this night gone to ? Why in time 
don't them critters come along ? Darned if I believe 
we are ever going to get out of this scrape alive. The 
boys have been packed away down there in the boat 
for over half-an-hour ; and if they'd all got along we 
4 



38 THE OLD FLAG. 

miglit have got off as slick as grease." The Cap'ns 
just bewildered arter that gal. When he got so nicely 
out of prison, and came here and found us all safe, and 
waiting for him why in thunder didn't he jump into 
the boat and let us shove off", and trust the gal to 
Providence till Burnside come. Of course she'd be 
safe with her own folks, and I told him so. But he 
muttered sometliing about strange forebodings, flung 
up his arms and yelled out " Away ! away 1 Stay not 
for me. Save yourselves," and rushed off in a darned 
hurry. 

[Enier Charles, r.] 

Charles. Do you see anything of them yet, David ? 

David. Gol- darn-it, no. It begins to grow dajdight, 
and I besrin to g-row skeerish. 

Charles. Keep up your courage, David. 

David, Gosh-all- firelocks ! don't I ? But thig 'ere 
is roughing of it a little too much for one night. Oh, 
Greenland ! how cold m}^ toes be. I guess I'd stand a 
small show for my life if I was up in old Yarmount 
to-night, in this shape. Gol-darn-it, Lieutenant, I don't 
know how it is, but I keep thinking of pa and marm, 
and the boys and gals, and Jerusha. Oh, what would 
Jerusha say if she could see me using these stockings 
in this style. Darn me if I ain't homesick. If ever I 
get out of this outlandish place and get safe home, I'll 
never leave again. Don't this old hole make you home- 
sick, Lieutenant ?. Darn it! don't yer think sometimes 
that yer'll never see home again ? 

Charles. David, this is my home. Homesick ! Were 
your lot like mine you might be heartsick. Where 
we now stand is the most sacred spot to me on earth. 
Hour after hour; I have spent in this vicinity, in my 
happy childhood. Where yonder boat lays moored 
was my little harbor, where Alice and I when children. 



THE OLD FLAG. 39 

sent forth our little boats laden with mimic merchan- 
dise. And there over the water — 

David. Oh, don't say any more. I shall boo-hoo, 
right out. I had a little harbor, — Jerusha and I had 
little boats, — way up on Onion river. 

[Enter Capt. Holmes, hastily^ l.] 

CaiJt. We are pursued by a whole compan}^ 

David. Then we are gone suckers. 

Capt. No : I am prepared for the emergency. This 
fuse connects with the magazine. It will explode in a 
few seconds after being lighted. Hasten to the boat. 
It is sheltered by the steep bank, and will be safe. I 
will wait till the troops are close upon us, when I will 
apply the match and join you. In the confusion we 
will be able to escape. We shall go up the Trent, 
while they will look for us down stream. [Exit all hut 
Capt. Holmes^ R.] Now I will watch for their approach. 

[Exit L. 
[Mugic. Enter Alice, r.] 

Alice. I must not obey the impulse of my heart. It 
is strange that I am subject to such weakness. • I know 
my duty to my country, — why should I thus waver 
between patriotism and love. Ah, Captain Holmes is 
returning. I must prevent the explosion. [Exit R. 
Music. Enter Capt. Holmes^ L. He lights thefase^ and 
exit R. Enter Alice R., and removes the fuse.'] 

Alice. It is done ; but my heart already relents. 
There comes the force with Col. Sharpe at its head. 
They are seeking the life of the dearest object to me 
on earth. It is no use, — I must defend him. Love 
has triumphed. What ami doing? I must not relight 
the fuse. Why do I thus forget my duty ? God give 
me strength to perform it. ( With an effort moves off R. 
Music.) 

[Enter CoL. Sharpe, with soldiers^ L.] 



40 THE OLD FL.\G. 

Sharpe. {Looking at the magazine.) What is this ? 
Some one has been meddling with the magazine. Good 
heavens ! here is a fuse and a train of powder. {Looks 
again.) No it is not lighted. Some one has extin- 
guished it. Who can it be ? 

Alice. {Enteriiig.) It was I. 

S harpe. Ah, then jou have still love enough left 
for the Southern cause to aid us. 

Alice. Yes, and love for Charles Sanford so great 
that my heart has not strength enough to betray him. 
{Points pistol at the magazine.) The discharge of this 
pistol will fire the magazine ! Advance one step, or 
stir from your track, until yonder boat has had time to 
escape, and you are blown to destruction 1 {Spealdng 
off.) Charles Sanford, your pursuers are held in 
check ! Hasten to escape ! 'Tis the hand of Alice 
that saves you at last ! 

TABLEAU. 



ACT III. 

ScEXE 1. — Lnterior of house outside of Nexobern. Jim 
and negroes discovered. Jim sings ''^Kingdom Com^ingT 

Jim. Yah ! yah ! yah ! Dis am de most glorious 
ting I ever yeard tell on. De Yankees, dey come way 
down yere wid a mighty big heap of sogers, to take dis 
place and set all us niggers free. Golly ! arn't dis a 
bressed ting for de cullud people? I tinks we's a 
heap better off den de white folks. Our massas hab 
to shoulder der muskets, and fight der own battle for 
independence, while we hab some one to fight our'n 
for us. Now, darkies, jes' look a'yer. Don't yer eber 
let me hear yer cuss yerselbs fur bein' brack, cos if 
yer s white yer'd have ter strike yer own blows for 



THE OLD FLAG.- 41 

freedom.^ Well, niggers, let's go to bed, cos I 'spect 
der's gwine to be lots ob fun to-morrow, and I wants 
to hab a good night's sleep. {Exeunt R. 

[Enter^ EmmA, l.] 

Emma. Oh, dear! I am all anxiety. I am so fear- 
ful of the result of to-morrow's battle. Our people are 
making such extensive preparations for defense, it 
must be very doubtful if the Federal forces can suc- 
ceed ; and if they do not, what will become of me ? I 
dare not return to my home, and be exposed to the 
power and vengeance of Col. Sbarpe. I wish I had 
fled with Capt. Holmes to the Union army, or could 
have remained at the house where he left me. Then 
I should have been able to communicate with him 
now. {Enter Sam, r.) Ah, Sam, have you come from 
the Union army ? 

Sam, Yes, Misses, I have. Captain Holmes sent 
me in search of you as soon as we halted, to-night ; 
but I could not find you w^here we left you, and I have 
been hunting for you ever since. 

Emma. Yes, Sam, I was obliged to leave that 
place. Col. Sharpe, by some means, discovered my 
place of concealment ; but, thanks to Jim, who was on 
the lookout, I was warned in time. He has vowed a 
terrible vengeance upon me, and I tremble lest I should 
fall into his hands. 

Sam. You have no need of further anxiety. I will 
go instantly to the Captain; and when he learns of 
your fears, Ije will give you instant aid. 

Emma. Oh, Sam, how can I ever repay you for 
your faithfulness ? 

Sam. I am fully repaid. Many times have I faced 

death, and I am willing to meet it, if thereby I can aid 

the cause of the Union and my race. Had all my 

brothers been blessed with my advantages, they could 
4^ 



43 THE OLD FLAG. 

now strike a telling blow for freedom. Ah, it is well 
for the South that her slaves are kept in ignorance ; 
that she holds them down as brutes, by cultivating 
only their brutish natures. But I feel that the time 
is coming when their manhood will be developed and 
acknowledged the world over. {Noise heard outside.) 

Emma. Ah, who is that? {Looks out of the window.) 
They are Confederate soldiers ! A^ny ! away ! if you 
are found here you are lost. Your connection with 
the Union army is known, and a reward is offered for 
your capture. [Exit Emma and Sam, l. 

[Enter Col. Sharpe and soldiers, R.] 

Sharpe Search the house from cellar to attic. She 
must be found to-night, for it is probably her intention 
to reach the Federal army. The information she could 
give them would be of great value to them. {Soldiers 
exit, L.) Ha ! ha ! That was well done ! That makes 
it appear that I am only anxious to do my duty ; but 
my real object is to get her in my power, and then we 
shall see whose turn it will be to triumph. {Exit L. 
Music.) 

[Enter Alice cautiously.'] 

Alice. Little does Emma suspect that I am thus 
watching over her. She will receive aid from her 
friends if Sam succeeds in reaching the Federal lines. 
But if he fails I must rely upon my own efforts for her 
defense. My arm is indeed feeble to combat with such 
villainy, but with God's help, I may in some way render 
her assistance. {Noise without.) Ah, they have discov- 
ered some one. Should it be Emma. I will retire, and 
watch them as they enter. . Oh God, give me power to 
thwart this villain. {Exit R. Enter CoL. Sharpe and 
Soldiers with Sam, l.) 

Sharpe. Ah, you black scoundrel ! we've got you 
at last, and now jou shall meet what you deserve. 



THE OLD FLAG. 4g 

There shall be no delay in this case. Two spies have 
escaped me already. I shall take care that you do not. 
{To one of the soldiers.) Call in those negroes, that they 
may witness his fate. {Exit Soldier, l.) Now, you 
black traitor say your prayers, for your time has come. 

[Enter Jim and Negroes, l.] 
I want you to see how niggers are served when they 
aid our enemies. 

Jim. Oh, golly ! arn't dis orful?" 

(Sam kneels and Sharpe puts pistol to his head. Al- 
ice enters and strikes the weapon up as it is fired. Ne- 
groes rush offii. Sharpe stands in amazement.) 

Alice. Col. Sharpe, you exceed your authority. 
You shall not commit so inhuman an act. 

Sharpe. Alice, I am in command here by Confed- 
erate authority. 

Alice. And I sir, am here in the name of humanity 
to prevent you from the commission of so infamous a 
crime by giving you a little time for I'efiection. 

Sharpte. You are a strange girl. Where is all your 
love for the Southern cause ? Has it left your heart 
altogether. 

Alice. {Earnestly.) I am afraid it was never there. 
Not in the heart, — not in the heart. [Exit r. 

Sharpe. Stay 1 — Well, I am least rid of her. She 
must be insane. Perhaps she should be be looked after. 
Well, I have no time to spare. Have you searched 
the house thoroughly ? 
■ Soldier. Yes, sir. 

Sharpe. I am sure she is in the house. There must 
have been some hiding place that you have not discov- 
ered. Away with the prisoner, and see that he is safe- 
ly guarded. We will search the house once more. 

[Exeunt L. 
[Enter Alice, r.] 



44 THE OLL» FLAG. I 

Alice. If she is discovered, what will become of her ? 
Word must be got to the Federal lines at once, and I 
will go. 

Scene 2 — Wood. David and Union soldiers dis- 
covered. 

{Enter Pat Muephy, l.) 
Pat. Holy Moses ! how it rains ! Faith, I came 
near being drowned between thim two logs. Sure, an' 
didn't I fight two hours wid David Jones for the place. 
It wasn't long before a big river made its channel 
there, and me body dammed it into a big lake above 
me. Faith, when I got up, I damned it into a big 
lake below me. Ah, Pat Murphy, it was a great 
weakness in ye when yer patriotism tuk ye up to 
Koanoke Island, to enlist as a common soldier. Divil 
a bit did I find there of me brother Tim ; it's with 
Little Mac that they say he is. Well, never mind, 
Pat, yer learning the trade of a soldier, and there's 
many a broth of an Irish boy that's learning the same 
trick, and some day ye'll see them striking a blow for 
Ould Ireland. Well, here seems to be a dry place, so 
I think I'll try and get some sleep. The boys are 
sleeping as happy as clams in high water. And 
there's David Jones snoring away like a porpoise. 
Sure, he feels mighty big since he got promoted to 
corporal for notorious conduct. {Lights an old clay 
pijDCj lies doiun^ scolds David for snoring^ etc., etc.^ and 
goes to sleep.) 

{Music. Enter Chaeles and Capt. Holmes.) 
Capt. You are foolish, Charles, to let such vague 
ideas affect you thus. Come, come, throw off this 
despondency. 

Charles. I cannot help it, George. This strange 
presentiment has seized me, and I cannot shake it off. 



THE OLD FLAG. 45 

Sometliing tells me that I shall fall in the approaching 
battle, and. I cannot help feeling sad and gloomy when 
I think of home, where anxious hearts are praying for 
my safety. It grieves me to remember that I am here 
against my father's wish ; for, although for years a res- 
ident at the North, his sympathies are still with his na- 
tive State. And she whom I loved better than all else 
on earth, is now mine enemy. If she were only true to 
me and to the Union, I could die content. 

Cai^t. Nonsense, Charles, don't talk thus ; . look at 
the bright side. When the Old Flag again floats over 
jSTewbern, the devotion of Alice will be renewed. 

Charles. (Solemnly.) I do not look for any reunion 
on earth, George. 

{Davidj ivho is lying on the ground^ rises and comes 
forward. He has heen promoted to corporal.) 

David. Gol-darned if I ain't about froze. I believe 
I'm wet clean to my skin. I don't believe this kind of 
life agrees with me. My marm would be in a terrible 
stew if she knew I was sleeping on the bare ground, 
without any shelter, when it rains pitchforks in this 
way. It's mighty strange how it rains every night we 
camp out. I say, Cap'n, ain't it most morning ? 

Cai^t. It's nearly twelve o'clock. 

David. This is the gol-darndest long night I ever 
see. I wish, morning would come. I want to be pitch- 
in' into them cussed secesh. I ain't forgot the time 
they had me pris'ner, confound tbeir picters ! If I 
don't walk into 'em to-morrow my name ain't David 
Jones. 

Capt. Well, corporal, it is time for your relief. 
Arouse your men as quietly as possible. [Exit Cap- 
tain and Charles^ E.] 

David. {Going to first soldier and shaking him.) Pat! 
Pat ! it's time to go on guard. Come, come, Pat Mur- 
phy ! 



46 THE OLD FLAG. 

Pat. To the divil wid yer guard ! Shure, an' wab 
wild ye be afther guarding to-night? {Uncovers Ms 
head.) Och, murther ! a big drap of wather tuk me 
plum in the eye. {Rises^ rubs his eyes^ yawns^ and looks 
about) What the divil did ye wake me up first for ? 

David. ■ Come, gol-darn it ! why don't yer get up ? 

Pat. Well, wake up the rest, and I'll be wid ye. 
{Lies down) 

[David wakes up the other soldiers^ shaking them, and 
telling each it is time to go on guards etc. He gets them 
up in line, counts them, and finds that one is unissing.'] 

David. Blast my picter, if that Pat Murphy ain't 
gone to sleep again. {Goes to. Pat and gives him a kick.) 

Pat. {Springing up.) Och, murther! wud ye be 
afther killing me intirely wid thim big gunboats that ye 
wear on the two feets of ye. 

David. Well then, gol-darn it ! don't play possum. 

\_He marches the guard off L.] 
[Enter Capt. Holmes and Charles, r.] 

CapA. I think I shall try to sleep for a while. {Lies 
down.) This is rather rough, I must say, but as the 
Colonel says, it's all for the Union. {Covers himself 
with blanket. Music. Charles paces back and forth in 
deep thought.) Are you not going to sleep, Charles ? ' 

Charles. Not to night. 

Capt. Well, you won't have much time to sleep 
to morrow. 

Charles. {Aside.) To-morrow? To-morrow I may 
take my last sleep ! {Music. He continues to walk.) 
George 1 {Ooes up to him.) George ! He sleeps. I 
have something I would tell him, — something that 
weighs upon my mind ; but I will not disturb him. Let 
him dream — dream of love — for his brightest dreams 
may be realized. Not so with me. My dream of love 
is past. [Exit R. 



THE OLD FLAG. 47 

[Enter David, l.] 

David. I swow to gosh ! these are awful rough times. 
I never see the beat of it in all my born days. It's al- 
ways my luck to be on picket when it rains. Timena- 
tion ! I'm tired, and hungry, and sleepy, and discour- 
aged, and homesick, and everything else. If I'd only 
jest have known that I'd got to go through such con- 
founded scrapes as this, I should have staid to hum. 
But then gol-darn it, I couldn't help enlisting. I got 
so excited over big guns and great speeches that I felt 
that I would like to walk through about a dozen of 
them confounded traitors ; and blast my picter if I 
don't ! Darn their sneaking, cowardly hides, to tram- 
ple our glorious old flag under their nasty huffs, and hist 
their old dirty secession rag. Who in thunder cares for 
the rain ? I'd wade through fire and and water jes' to 
get my paw on to one of them fellers. Well, I've got to 
keep my eyes peeled about this picket business. \_Exit R. 

{Ifiisic. Enter Alice, cautiously^ L. Looks at Capt. 
Holmes.) 

Alice. It mast be that I am within the lines of the 
Federal army* Here is one of its officers. I will wake 
him, and perhaps he can aid me. {Goes up to Capt. 
Holmes and bends over him. Enter Charles, r. He 
starts on heholding Alice, wlio does not observe him. He 
walks u'p to her, touclies her arm, and speaks her name. 
She starts up, and a dagger falls from beneath her cloak. 
Music.) 

Charles. \_Picking up the dagger.) What means this, 
Alice ? Has your maddened zeal led you to this ? A 
dagger in your hand, searching the faces of sleeping 
soldiers ! 'Twas indeed fortunate that I did not sleep. 

,Alice. Charles, do I deserve this terrible accusa- 
tion ? My mission is to save, not to destroy. I have 
a message for Capt. Holmes. Can you show him to 
me? 



48 THE OLD FLAG. 

Charles, {Walces George^ and they come forward to 
Alice.) 

Alice. I have a message for yo\x^ Captain Holmes. 

Capt. Is it from Emma? 

Alice, Yes; she needs your aid instantly. 

Capt Is she exposed to danger? Why did not 
Sam return ? He promised to, if my help was needed. 

Alice. He did attempt to return, but was taken 
prisoner. Emma is concealed in a planter's house 
near by,, and Col. Sharpe, with a squad of men, has 
possession of the house. They were searching for her 
when I left. 

Capt Can you lead me to the place? 

Alice. I can. 

{Enter David Jones, E.) 

Capt. David, Emma is in danger, and needs our 
help. 

David. I'm iust the chau vou want; so lead on, 
and I will follow. We'll fix em. [Exeunt, L. 

Scene 3. — Same as first scene. 
{Enter three rebel soldiers, R.) 

First Soldier, Where the deuce is that nigger ? He 
said he was going to bring us more whiskey. 

Second Soldier. What yer want of more whiskey ? 
we've had too much already. {Yawns.) How con- 
founded sleepy I am ? {Lies down.) 

Third Soldier. {Riibbing his eyes, and slightly stag- 
gering.) We musn't go to sleep, John ; you know we 
are on guard. {All seem to he under the influence of 
some powerful opiate,- and are soon fast asleep on the 
floor.) 

{Enter JiM, L.) 

Jim. Gorra mighty ! 'Pears like yer won't trouble 
anybody mnch for the present, sartin shuah, dat's a 



THE OLD FLAG. 49 

fac. I reckons misses wouldn't liab put so much 
laudalum into dat whiskey if she'd 'sposed yes gwine 
to make such beasts o' yerselves. [Exit, R. 

[Music. Enter Emma, l.] 

Emma. Ah, the plan has succeeded. The men are 
all deeply drugged, aud Jim has doubtless liberated 
Sam, who can soon obtain assistance. I will remove 
the arms of the soldiers, so that, if they awake from 
their stupor, they will have no means of defense. 
{Music, she carries off] L., two guns, and, as she is return- 
ing/or the third, encounters Sharpe, luho enters R. Music 
chords.) ■ • 

Shctrpe. Ah, ha ! so I have found you at last. You 
thought to elude me ; but 3^ou are now in my power. 
{lie seizes her, and is dragging her to the door, ichen Capt. 
Holmes and David enter, and Sharpe is secured.) 

Capt. Now, Emma, you are safe, and this villain 
that threatens you shall persecute you no more.. 

Emma. But how did you discover my place of con- 
cealment? Sam has been detained by Col. Sharpe, and 
I thought no word could be sent you. 

Capt. There has been one watching your welfare of 
whom 3'ou little dreamed; one who has repeatedly 
foiled your enemies, and was the only one who had the 
power to inform me of your situation, when the fates 
seemed turned against you. 

Emma. A¥ho can have done this for me? 
[Eater Alice and Charles, r.] 

Capt Your sister, Alice. 

{Alice and Emma, each exclaiming ^^ sister ! " rush into 
each other s embrace.) 

David. {Holding Sharpe.) Come, gol-darn ye, I'll 
fix yer if yer don't stop that squirming. 

Capt. Don't hold him so closely, David; he can do 
no harm. 

5 



50 THE OLD FLAG. 

{David releases Shaiye^ ivho sjyrings forivard and 
draios a knife from his side j^ocket^ and aims a Now at 
the breast of Emma^ exclaiming '''■Now ifny vengeance is 
certain^ David draws o'evolver and shoots Shar]oe^ he- 
fore the blow is delivered. The ladies scream^ and recoil 
in horror.) 

David. There, you contemptible brute ! you ever- 
lasting sneak I How do 3^ou like that pill? {Firing 
heard outside.) 

Capt. That calls us to our posts. The work has 
begun. Emma, your enemy will haunt 3^ou no more ; 
the safest plate for .yon now is beneath your father's 
roof 

Emma. It is growing light, and we can safely make 
our way home. 

\_Exeunt — genilemeii R., ladies L. Enter Jim, R.] 

Jim. Look after dem rebels, he}^? Das wot dey 
tole me. Wonder if I can wake 'em up. Bar's one I 
reckon can't be woked up berry easy. {Rouses the sol- 
diers with considerable effort^ makes the^n take nj') the body 
of 8harpe., and all go out R.) 

Scene 4. — Room in Bailey^s liouse. 

[Enter Alics, R.] 
Alice, How terribly the battle is raging ! Thej' must 
be making a desperate effort to carry the works at the 
brickyard. {Sound of distant cannonading.) Oh! how 
those fearful reports strike terror and dismay to my 
heart. How terrible is the suspense, when the dearest 
object on earth is exposed to death. It is my duty and 
my sentiment to kneel and offer up a prayer for the 
noble defenders of our sacred soil, and implore the God 
of Battles to give us the victory. But I cannot, — no, 
1 cannot. My lips, indeed, might shape the words, 
but there is only one prayer in my heart to-day, and 



THE OLD FLAG. , 51 

that is constantly ascending to the God of Love : 
" Spare, oh, spare the life of Charles Sanford ! " {N'oise 
loithout.) What cry is that ? What means this con- 
fusion? The noise of the battle has ceased. Surely, 
those are not the shouts of victory ? 

[Enter Mrs. Bailey, r., terribly excited.] 

Mrs. B. Mercy on us! what shall we do? Every 
one of our men that isn't killed dead is running for his 
life through the streets, towards Kingston. The Yan- 
kees will soon be here, and then we shall all be mur- 
dered. 

Alice. Ah ! it is indeed so, for the enemy's flag is 
already raised over the- city. Oh, hateful standard ! 
Can I evef live beneath it ? 

[Enter Emma, k.] 

Emma. {Enthusiastically.) 01], Alice ! the Old Flag 
once more floats over Newbern. Look at the flag be- 
neath which we were reared — the Old Flag that so long 
protected us, again bringing the promise of hope and 
peace. 

Mrs. B. {Looking from the luindow.) Oh, mercy on 
us ! There are some of the Yankees coming down the 
street, and I do believe they are coming right straight 
to this house. Run, run, girls, and hide yourselves 
somewhere ! [Exit R. 

Alice. Come, Emma, we had better leave this room, 
for I see they are really coming here. 

Emma. You may go, if you wish, but I shall re- 
main, for if I mistake not, there is some one approach- 
ing whom I wish to see. 

Alice. Well, if you choose, you may stay and wel- 
come with smiles the invaders of our homes. But I 
will leave, lest in my indignation I might say that 
which would add greater peril to our situation. [Exit R. 

Emma. It is indeed George Holmes! My prayer 



52 • THE OLD FLAG. 

has been answered ! He has escaped the perils of the 
battle, and is coming to tell me of the glorious victory. 

[Enter Capt. Holmes, l.] 
Oh, George ! have you passed through the battle un- 
harmed ? 

Cop^. Yes, and victory is ours, and the flag you so 
honor and revere floats over your home once more. 
Yes, I have passed through the battle unharmed, but 
all have not been so fortunate. Many lives have been 
sacrificed to-day. One of the bravest and noblest of 
our regiment is mortally wounded. Charles Sanford 
has but a few hours to live. We were on the left, — 
our company bore the colors. Color-sergeant after 
color-sergeant was shot down. At length the colors 
themselves went down, and for awhile lay upon the 
ground, some distance in advance of the line of battle. 
For the moment no one had the daring to raise themx. 
Our men fell fast. The line wavered. The enemy, 
who were close at hand, sav/ our condition and resolved 
upon capturing the flag. With terrible yells they 
leajied from their rifle-pits, and rushed towards the col- 
ors. Charles, perceiving the danger, instantly rushed 
forward and seized the flag, waved it above his head, 
and shouted to his men to follow. With a cheer, the 
men rallied, and drove back the enemy at the point of 
the bayonet. The fire became more deadly, but Charles 
yet waved the flag, though severely wounded. At 
length he fell, still clinging to the flag and waving it 
aloft, till the foe retreated. We could not leave him, 
and bore him with us. But with a tenacious grasp he 
still clings to the flag, and his bleeding form is now 
wraped in its sacred folds. We thought it fitting to 
bring him here, and I see the men are coming with 
him. 

{Slow and imjjressive Music. Charles /Sanford is home 



THE OLD FLAG. -58 

in on a stretcher hij two soldiers^ luho set set him down in 

front and retire. He is clinging to the folds of a flag that 

lays across his hody. All gaze upon him in solemn silence.) 

Capt I fear he lias breathed his last. {Tahes hold 
of the flag ^ and the grasp of Charles tightens.) No, life 
still remains, for his grasp tightens when I attempt to 
remove the flag. How he must love it ; his whole 
soul seems centered in this devotion. 

[Enter Alice.] 

Alice. Is he dead? 

Capt. No, but only a spark of life remains. 

Alice. Oh, if he could only awake to consciousness 
long enough for me to ask his forgiveness ; never till 
now have I realized how much I have wron^'ed him. 
Oh, he must hear me. {Kneeling.) Charles, Charles 
Sanford 1 

[Charles aivakes and is raised up hy Capt. Holmes.^ 

Charles. Where is the Flag ? 

Capt. Here, Charles, all safe. 

Charles. Did not some one call me ? 

Alice. It was Alice. Charles, do you not know 
me? 

Charles. You here, Alice ? IIow came you on the 
field? 

Capt. We are in Mr. Bailey's house, Charles, and 
Burnside holds the city of Newbern. 

Charles. Then Grod be thanked ! {Sinks hack.) 

Alice. Oh, Charles you must listen to me ! 

Charles. I am most gone. Alice, you must speak 
quickly. 

Alice. Oh, Charles ! I have loved you more and 
treated you worse than any being on earth. While 
the battle was raging to-day, I was almost driven to 
distraction by the thought that you might fall and I 
never see you again — never to ask your forgiveness 



54 THE OLD FLAG. 

here. I tried to prajr for the success of our arms, but 
could pray for none but jou. Oh, Charles, I know I 
am not deserving it, but will you not heed my plead- 
ing for mercy. Will you, will you not forgive me for 
all the wrong I have done you?. 

Charles. It is all forgiven, Alice. Death will soon 
reconcile all between you and me. But the Old Flag, 
Alice, — is there not an atonement needed there ? I have 
stood by the Old Flag, Alice, and have sacrificed my 
life in its defense ; with my dying gFasp I have clung 
to it, resolving to relinquish it to none but you. I 
love the Old Flag, oh, how I love it ; and it is indeed 
fitting that a thing so sacred to me should be my dying 
gift to you. Here, take it and cherish it for my sake, 
and when you look upon its tattered folds, stained 
with my life blood, and recall those happy days of 
the past, when your love for me and the Old Flag was 
one, you may feel that you have some share in the sac- 
rifice. I thank God that we are " reconciled at last. 
We may yet meet in Heaven, where there is but one 
flag, the bright banner of the cross. 

Alice. God bless you, Charles, for this, God bless 
you. We will meet in Heaven, we will ! 

Charles. Is there nothing more, Alice? 

Alice. No more ; it was your pardon that I craved, 
and with the noble generous heart of Charles Sanford 
you have granted it. God bless you ! 

Charles. Then, Alice, I have a favor to ask of you. 
It is the last request I shall ever make. Will you not, 
kneeling here before God, swear allegiance forever to 
the Old Flag ? 

Alice. {Rising.) Oh, .Charles! why should you re- 
quire this of me?" 

[Enter Bailey.] 

Charles. Then you will not do it? I have had 



THE OLD FLAG. 55 

hri''?P''if^''f "S both you and your father re- 
turn to loya ty before I died ; for you must surely do 
It sometime, if you live. -^ 

Bailey. And I will do it now 

Charles. God bless you, Mr. Bailey ! I knew your 
heart was right; and now, that it may seem a re/lity 
will you not kneel beneath the flag and take the oaih 

jJl^'^fni^T'"' ^r'^^ff^./o^^^rdaflag, and standing 
^feR^ ""'''' '^ ''''^'^ his form. Bailey l. 

Charles. Before God and these witnesses, you do 
so emnly swear allegiance forever. {The voice of Charles 
Jalters, and Emma continues.) 

Enima. In the presence of God and these witnesses 
you do solemnly swear allegiance forever to the Old 
Flag the flag of our Union, the flag beneath which 
Washington fought^the flag for which Charles San- 
lord dies. 

Bailey. {Kneeling.) I swear it.- 
^ Alice {Closely watched hy Charles, and sloioly kneel- 
ing.) Before God, I, too, take this oath. 

{Iiiipressive music. Charles dies. Captain Holmes 
and Emma draw out the flag, and kneel as if to throw it 
over him Witli uplifted eyes, the characters form a tableau. 
Itea i^gM. 1 he scene rises, showing an appropnate Alle- . 
goncal lahleau.) 

CURTAIN. 



LIBRPRY OF CONGRESS 



017 401 606 9 



